Missing Senses
by 13 Pairs of Wings
Summary: A young blind man by the name of Feliciano Vargas was walking one day when he bumped into someone who turns out to be deaf. Despite it seeming to be impossible, the two soon become close friends, and even create their own language through touch and gestures. Collection of one-shots in the same universe, GerIta, AU.
1. Story 1: Flowers and Waltzing

**A/N:** Ok, so the night before I have to go back to school after winter break, I thought it _might_ be a good idea to get to bed before 4:00 for once. Lo and behold, I go to sleep only to wake up at 3:10. Why? Because my brain is inconvenient and had a GerIta spaz that I just had to write. I only got 5 hours of sleep, but it was worth it.

***Edit*** Upon popular demand, and a new idea that popped into my head while waiting for my English muffins to toast this morning, I will be making this a multi-chapter! Which means I have three fanfictions to write for...which also means that updates will be slower. Sorry.

***important* **'_Insert words that someone would say here'_ means that from the previously mentioned gestures, this is what the character is trying to say. There aren't many in the beginning, but toward the end Feliciano and Ludwig talk more, so you'll see these more.

* * *

A bubbly Italian smiled as he walked through the sunlit park. He was out for a stroll in the good weather while it lasted—it had been very cloudy and rainy the last couple of days, and more cloudy days were forecasted. His pace was slow, and he didn't have a destination in mind, but he made sure to keep track of where he was. Now was hardly the time to call his brother to tell him he'd taken too many turns and gotten himself lost at the local park.

_Ah, the warmth of sunshine._ He thought absently. The slight redhead soon drifted off into his own little world, it was no wonder he ended up bumping into someone.

"_Oof!_ Oh, so sorry! I forgot to tell where I was going!" He apologized.

There was no response, and the man frowned, "Um, ciao?" He asked questioningly. It had been soft so he thought it must have been a person… just his luck if it ended up that he was talking to a tree.

Suddenly something brushed his hand and he jumped. _Nope. Not a tree._ He turned his head wildly, trying to get a sense of where the other's head was so that he could look at it. The other seemed to know what he wanted, and there was the brush of fingers as someone tilted his head up just a bit. _Oh, they're tall…and their fingers are callused, big, and strong too…_

The man smiled, "Sorry again. I need to remember to keep track of where I'm going! My name is Feliciano. What's yours?"

There was silence. Did he not speak Italian? Feliciano tried English and repeated what he said. Still nothing. He was nervous now, and tried once more in halted, slow German. He was in Northern Italy… but surely this person would at least know one of those three languages, or at least enough of one to respond. They had to know something of one of those. They were in Italy after all! He just hoped it wasn't Ger-

"_Bruder! Na bitte!"_

…_Uh oh_. Feliciano tried desperately to drudge up his limited German, but failed to translate any of it. The voice was coming from his left; he could tell it was of someone who was older than he, but not by much. That and the voice was definitely masculine as well. He seemed to know the person Feliciano had stumbled into as well, which was good.

The distressed Italian tried talking again, but this time he directed it toward where he had last heard the voice from. "Um …sir? I accidentally bumped into your friend here, but he doesn't seem to know any Italian or English…" Feliciano asked in English. He waited for the reply.

There was a pause before the voice answered; it seemed just slightly nervous, but loud none the less. "Oh, _ja. Es tut mir leid_," there was a pause and the Italian hoped that the man would switch to English or the country's language, because otherwise this would be a very short and very awkward conversation, "This is my brother actually… And you're staring at my chest." _Grazie…wait, oops._

The Italian let out a small squeak before raising his head up, "Sorry! Is that better?" Height must run in their family.

"Now you're staring at my hair. I know white is a rare hair colour, but I have a face too." The remark wasn't cold, but joking and followed with light laughter. Feliciano quickly adjusted where he looked before he could say anything else. "Are you blind or something?" the voice joked.

There was a pause as Feliciano tilted his head down to hide the pink on his cheeks and shuffle his feet. The German man seemed to finally get it, though and he quickly back-peddled, "Oh, _scheiße_. Dude, I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

"It's ok," a warm smile, "I don't mind." Feliciano turned his head so that he was looking back to the first, and still silent, person—the one he'd bumped into and started this whole scene. "Your brother is very quiet," he commented, "Can he talk?"

The voice suddenly became much more serious than before, "No actually. He can't. Hasn't been able to since he was a little kid…." The voice drifted off as if its owner had gotten lost in memories of the past.

However, Feliciano either didn't notice or chose to ignore it as he continued the conversation. "Oh!" he smiled again and giggled a little, "No wonder he never responded! What is his name?" The happy Italian tilted his head in question.

"He's Ludwig, and I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt." The voice—he now knew it to be Gilbert — perked up and Feliciano didn't have to see to be able to tell that he was smiling proudly.

"I'm Feliciano Vargas, it's nice to meet you Gilbert," he turned to look at the German, "and you too Ludwig!" Feliciano turned back to Ludwig and offered a hand. A rough, large hand took his again. It was much warmer than simple sunshine. This made Feliciano smile and he took his hand back, but only to take a step forward and hug the German. He was definitely very tall and strong.

"Ve~ Mind if I walk with you two? It's a lot more fun to walk with other people," he asked as he let go of Ludwig.

"I'm ok with it if Ludwig is. I'll ask him." There was the noise of rapid hand movements, and Feli's head swivelled between the brothers with a confused look.

"He says that's ok with him."

The blind man's eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Wow. How did you do that?"

There was a chuckle from Gilbert's direction before his accented voice answered, "I used sign-language. It's a way of communicating for people who can't hear using hand gestures."

"Oh! It's kind of like how I can read using Braille!"

The Italian could tell that Gilbert was smiling from the way he spoke, "Ja, I guess. Come on, we should probably start walking before it starts getting dark and cold."

The trio walked for a while with Feliciano in between the German brothers after the two had argued that it would be easier for him to keep up that way. In Ludwig's case his arguing consisted of gently moving Feliciano so he stood with Gilbert to his left and Ludwig to his right when the small man started to protest. It was surprising how much Feliciano and Ludwig could communicate to one another without assistance. When a dog ran out in front of them and the Italian wasn't paying attention, a hand came from his right and held his shoulder so that he would not continue walking and trip.

Soon Feliciano remarked that his own brother was probably getting worried by now, and Gilbert commented that he should probably start dinner soon or they'd be eating their meal at midnight.

"I can walk home from here if we're still in the park….Um, where are we exactly though? Ve~ I lost track…"

"No way am I letting a blind guy walk home alone when it's getting dark out!" Gilbert actually sounded pretty worried.

The shorter just smiled innocently, "I'll be fine. Ve~ I walk in this park all the time!"

"Ok. Now there is absolutely no chance that I'm just gonna let you go off and walk to your house by yourself. Ludwig can go with you!"

Feliciano shook his head and was about to protest when he felt a hand on his shoulder, assuming it was Ludwig because it came from his direction; Feliciano subconsciously leaned into it. Hehe, he was really warm….

There was a pause, the hand lifted from his shoulder, and the same rapid shuffling noises as Gilbert and his brother talked before a verdict was reached. "Ok, I gotta go so that I can get the food started, and Ludwig is going to take you back home."

Feliciano didn't mind walking with Ludwig all that much, and he probably wouldn't win in an argument, so he just smiled and replied to Gilbert, "Alright!" He turned and nodded happily to the deaf German so he would understand that Feli was fine with Ludwig walking with him.

It sounded like Gilbert was chuckling and then noises as Ludwig shifted from foot to foot and moved his arm around. Feliciano could hear Gilbert's footsteps start to casually walk away, and then they stopped. "Oh, by the way, Feliciano, Ludwig's blushing red as a tomato." He let out a scary laugh that sounded like, "Kesesesesesese!" before taking off at a fast pace, if the rapid footfalls were anything to go by. The Italian realized that Ludwig was not at his side before he recognised the noise of someone running after Gilbert.

There was no way that Feliciano could follow after them without tripping or running into something, so he slowly oriented himself and found a bench where he could sit and wait. It was the little moments like this, when the cheerful Italian was all alone, that he could just lean back and really _listen_.

There was a bird, somewhere overhead—he assumed that there was a tree somewhere behind, or to the side of the bench. The bench's seat wasn't solid plastic; instead there were ribbons of it that went from the edge of the seat into a curve to end at the top of the backrest. The walkway wasn't concrete made, but instead there was gravel under his shoes that made a gritty noise when he had walked over it to get to the bench.

Feliciano tried his best to concentrate hard and build up a mental picture of his surroundings. _Maybe I could paint it later… _If he was where in the park he thought he was, then across the path there were some flowers that had sprung up along the edge of the grass. Thoughts about painting evaporated and he slowly stood, trying to stay quiet. No one else was around, but it felt like if he was loud, everything would break and suddenly the world would go dull and hard to read again.

A breeze blew from the right, causing Feliciano shivered a little from the chill it brought. He bent down and let his hand skim just over the tips of the grass until he found a flower. He let a finger run along the edge if it's small petals before he gave a gentle tug. The snap of the steam breaking sounded like a shout to the blind man.

He winced and mumbled apologies to the plant as he repeated the action until he had a small bouquet of the flowers. Feliciano smiled and stood, returning to the bench only to find when he tried to sit down that Ludwig was already sitting there.

"Ah! I'm sorry!" he exclaimed as he almost sat on his friend. He started to explain why he hadn't heard Ludwig's approach because he'd been concentrating on the flowers, but stopped himself. _He couldn't hear anything I say anyway…_

Feliciano sat down next to Ludwig and tried again to explain about the flowers, only this time using his hands instead of speaking out loud. Both Feliciano and his brother, Lovino, tended to use hand gestures when they spoke, so it wasn't all that difficult for him to figure out how to tell Ludwig what he wanted to.

It started with Feliciano pretended to pick a flower from the bouquet, and then pointed over across the road. He tapped his ear and then across the road once more, making a wide gesture toward the grassy park beyond. '_I was picking these flowers over there, and I was paying attention to the sounds of the park, so I didn't hear you come.'_

There was a slight shift from the man next to him before Feliciano felt a hand patted his own reassuringly. _'I understand.'_ The simple gesture made the small Italian smile. He stood and pointed down the path—hopefully—toward his home. He then took Ludwig's hand and gave it a small tug. _'Come on, let's get going.'_

* * *

The noise of the doorbell ringing announced the guest's arrival. Lovino was out with Antonio, so Feliciano had to quickly find a break in his cooking and go let the person in. When he opened the apartment door and greeted the guest they reached out and knocked against the already open door. _Knock-knock, _pause, _knock, _another pause, _knock-knock._

Long ago Ludwig had devised a particular series of taps that he would use to signal to Feliciano that it was him if he ever opened the door, or they met. This had come about after their third meeting when Feliciano had on numerous occasions, not known that it was Ludwig, and been confused when no one responded to his chatter.

Said Italian opened the door wider with a happy-friendly smile on his face, "Ludwig!" He hugged his friend and felt unsure arms start to push him away, but he ignored them and let their one-way embrace last a little longer.

Feliciano released the deaf man and grabbed his hand to steer him into the apartment that he shared with his brother. Feliciano squeezed Ludwig's hand and pointed to himself and his apron, before pointing into the kitchen. _'You're just in time! I'm cooking dinner.'_

He felt two return taps on his hand. Among other little things, the two had agreed that a double tap would mean _'yes'_ or _'I understand'_, while three meant _'no'_. One tap was just to get the other's attention, and four translated to _'I need to leave'_ as well as _'goodbye'_. Gilbert had once witnessed his deaf brother and blind friend have an entire argument through taps and hand gestures. He'd marvelled at their silent language and how the two had gotten past the barriers of communication between them.

Ludwig was led to the kitchen. Feliciano blushed and tapped his head, pointed to Ludwig, then the ground, and made an 'X' with his arms. _'I didn't know you were coming…'_

The Italian felt two taps on his hand and he could hear Ludwig as he looked over at the small dinner of spaghetti, tomato sauce, and meatballs. There was only adequate food for just once serving. Feliciano pointed to the food that was cooking on the stove, to the plate on the counter that was waiting to be used, and then held up one finger. _'I have only made enough for one of us to eat. Sorry.'_

They were still linked at the hands, and Feli could feel Ludwig give two taps and squeeze his hand. _'It's ok. You can have it.'_

The two of them ended up sitting on the couch while the smaller quickly ate his meal. He paused with a meatball half way to his mouth when he had an idea. Feliciano smiled and tapped it. By now he knew exactly how tall Ludwig was when he sat or stood, so he hoped that when he brought the fork up toward his friend, that he'd gotten it to his mouth.

Ludwig's large hand covered his own and moved it slightly to the left. _Oops!_ There was the sound of the German leaning forward and steadying Feliciano's hand as he ate the meatball. There was silence, and then two taps on his hand. _'It was good.'_ Then the hand moved to gently transfer Feliciano's hand—and by extension, the fork—from the plate, back toward Ludwig. _'Can I have some more?'_

They ended up sharing the dish. Feliciano would take a bite, and hand the fork to Ludwig so that he could eat some of the spaghetti too. In this manner the dinner was finished shortly, and Ludwig tapped the plate from Feliciano's lap and the fork before taking his friend's arm and pointing it toward the kitchen. _'I will wash the dishes.'_ He moved again so that now Feli's arm was pointed toward the radio sitting off to the side of the room. Ludwig tapped Feliciano's shoulder, and let his finger travel down his arm. _'Can you go turn on some music?'_

The Italian gave two taps to Ludwig's hand and got up after he heard his friend head toward the kitchen. Gilbert had once told Feliciano that even though Ludwig was deaf, he liked to have music on. He'd asked why, and the albino—both of the brothers once told Feli what they looked like—had smiled and said that his brother may not be able to hear music like they could, but he _felt_ it.

Sure enough, when they'd both returned to the couch, Feliciano could hear Ludwig tap his finger on his knee in time with the music. Feliciano added his humming, and to his surprise, so did Ludwig. Gilbert had told Feliciano that even though his brother was deaf, he could still laugh and shout. It was still surprising when Ludwig did little things like humming to a song.

After a while, an energetic, bouncy song came on. Feliciano smiled and stood up—he was already swaying to the music—and tugged on Ludwig's hand until he stood too. Once the latter had finally been coxed into it, they danced in Feliciano's living room. The German was a bit embarrassed, Feli could tell, and for the most part he just swayed in beat and hummed, but soon Feliciano was laughing and having a good time.

The song ended and another, much slower song started. Feliciano started to return to his seat when a hand quietly took his own and brought him back to the centre of the room. The blind man smiled and took up position to dance a box step waltz. Ludwig lead, and Feliciano didn't mind taking the female's role.

They fell into the routine of the simple slow dance and the Italian's eyes grew heavy. His head started leaning forward, and after attempting to keep himself from falling asleep, he gave in and rested with his ear over Ludwig's heart.

The other stiffened, and his steps faltered for a second, but Feli noticed that he kept dancing. Feliciano's arms had slipped from his shoulder and hand to bring Ludwig into a lazy hug. Arms came hesitantly around him in return.

It wasn't long before Feliciano felt his German friend pick him up and start carrying him off in the direction of his room, but he was too tired to do anything about it, if he had even wanted to. Everything was hazy after that, just a dull sense of movement and soft sounds as sleep started to take over.

He could tell though, when suddenly his side and back was cold. Something took his hand and held it for a while before it started to slip from his grasp. Feli desperately clung to it and gave a lazy tug. _It's warm…and I don't want it to leave me. I want that warm feeling to stay._

He was deaf to the world—he'd drifted off, but a dulled sense of feeling was still alive. All the same, everything was quiet, and nothing moved. He could feel himself slip farther into the land of dreams when there was a dip, and his body slid forward a little. He could do nothing about it; all control of his muscles had been shut down a while ago.

The last thing he could feel was the warm of something from one side and he smiled ever so slightly before slipping into the calm, unmoving world of sleep that was just as black as his own. The only difference was that in the waking world, there was Ludwig to guide him.

* * *

**A/N: **Maybe I should wake up in the middle of the night to write more often... Just, not on a school night. I had to drink 3 cups of black tea in the morning before I finally woke up. This is a one-shot, but I like this AU, so there might be another addition some time).


	2. Story 2: Breakfast and a Treat

**A/N:** Ok, so since it's been a while, and I still don't have a solid plot idea, but a lot of little ones, I have decided that this will not be a chapter fanfic. Instead I will have one/two-shots from this same AU that I will submit and update all here. These will be called "stories", and they will most likely be in chronological order (I will tell you if it isn't).

With that, here is Story 2 (sorry, it's a bit shorter than the last, but there is Romano!)…

* * *

**Story 2: Breakfast and a Treat**

Feliciano woke to the smell of sausages and eggs cooking and the feeling like something was missing. Everything seemed normal. He was in his bed—he could tell because his brother's had a different shaped headboard—_fratello _was cooking breakfast, and the sun was warming the sheets from through the window to the left.

But something was still _missing_. Feliciano did a double check, and it was then that he realized that he was sleeping, not in the middle, but to the left. The covers were thrown back on the right side, and there was a shallow dent in his other pillow. The still sleepy Italian wondered why Lovino had been in his room, when he remembered something.

His friend had been over last night and they'd danced to the radio. _Ve~ I got really tired and Ludwig must have carried me up here and slept over. _He smiled at the thought.

Waking up came slowly, and eventually Feliciano made his way down the short hall to the apartment's simple kitchen. The smell of food was making his mouth water, and now that he was paying attention to the sent, it was not that of Lovino's cooking, but Ludwig's. There were noises as someone larger than his brother moved about the kitchen. The German must be cooking breakfast for them.

Feliciano was careful not to surprise the other when he approached. This had happened before, and it did not go over well for either of them. He waited until Ludwig had moved toward the refrigerator—which stood close to the hall entrance—before he walked into the kitchen and gave Ludwig a morning hug with a sleepy smile.

The larger was holding something in one hand, and so the return hug was only with one arm, but the Italian didn't mind. He waited until he felt his friend shift from foot to foot before he let go. _I want to hug him, but it would be really bad if our breakfast burned!_

Feliciano took hold of Ludwig's free hand and let himself be pulled around as breakfast was finished up. Feli could tell from the smells and every now and then, a quick touching investigation, what they were going to have. There was a plate of bacon and sausage sitting on the counter with a plate over it and warm air drifting up from around the edges. Right now Ludwig was scooping eggs from the skillet into a bowl. To the right of the meats were two plates with a buttered slice of toast on each. The far one was potato bread, and the other had wheat. Feliciano almost missed it, but there was also a bowl of hash sitting on the counter next to the fridge.

It wasn't long before everything was finished, and Ludwig slipped his hand from Feliciano's in favour of carrying the plate of bacon and sausage and the bowl of eggs. The Italian took up the hash and two plates with toast. They sat on the couch with all of the food on the coffee table. The Vargas brothers never really used the small table in the far corner of their kitchen for eating. Sometimes Feliciano would sit down and paint at it, but other than that it was forgotten.

After Ludwig got them both glasses of milk, Feliciano took his hand again and brushed his other over the plate until he found a slice of bacon. He took a bite and smiled, giving Ludwig two taps, a pause, and then two more taps. _'It tastes really good!'_

Ludwig squeezed his hand in return. _'You're welcome.'_

They continued on eating their meal. Feliciano pointed at the sky outside of the kitchen window at one point with a tilt to his head in question. _'What is the weather like?'_

Ludwig's reply came after he put his fork down. He handed something to Feliciano, it was his water glass. The blind man strained his ears, but there was no sound of rain. _'Cloudy and it will probably rain later.' _

Feliciano used his free hand to point to the window again before tapping his wrist three times. _'When?'_

Ludwig tapped 14 times before pausing and tapping each of Feliciano's shoulders. _'About 14:00.'_

Before he continued eating the Italian squeezed his friend's hand in thanks and then tapped his wrist again. Ludwig responded with nine taps. They soon finished their meal, and Feliciano helped with the dishes.

* * *

The afternoon found them still at Feliciano's house. Ludwig was reading a book, and Feli was sitting next to him, humming a tune he didn't know while he sketched. Just like how one would not think that a deaf man could dance to music, it surprised many people to know that a blind man could draw or paint. Actually, Feliciano had been told that he was very good at his work. The compliments made him beam and he always made sure to thank anyone who gave him one.

Feliciano tapped Ludwig's hand to get his attention and he heard the other close his book. The Italian smiled, an idea had formed in him mind. He pointed to himself with his pencil, then to a new, blank page in his sketchbook, and lastly to Ludwig sitting next to him. _'Can I draw you?'_

The other stiffened, Feli could tell, but he just kept smiling warmly and sneaked his hand into Ludwig's. At that he could hear the other sigh and tap his hand twice before squeezing it. _'Yes, I don't mind.'_

Once, Feliciano had asked Gilbert to describe what he and his brother looked like. Apparently Ludwig had thought that his brother hadn't described them well—in truth he was rather vague—so he had taken the Italian's hand and brought it up to his face so that Feliciano could feel around and get an idea as to what Ludwig looked like. That had been at least a year ago, if not more, and so the memory was faded.

It didn't take long before Feli had finished sketching outlines, and started working on details. Gradually it got more and more difficult for him to remember the little things about Ludwig's appearance. Said German soon brought Feliciano's hand up to his face in a repeat of that long ago scene. The Italian smiled in thanks before running his fingers over the other's face. After a while of moving his pencil with one hand and feeling around Ludwig's features with the other, he found himself concentrating more on the hand currently in his friend's slicked back hair rather than the drawing.

Feliciano ran his fingers along Ludwig's scalp, messing up his hair. The German shifted and there was a grip on the blind man's wrist. _'Stop it.'_ This caused Feli to start giggling as he went back to drawing, working on Ludwig's shoulders now.

It wasn't long before Feliciano had a detailed bust of Ludwig drawn on his paper. He tapped the paper and quickly received two eager taps on his hand in return. Feliciano turned and smiled up at his friend, and neither moved until the noise of a key turning in the front door alerted Feliciano that his brother was home from his stay with Antonio. He stood and pointed at the door before sweeping a finger out from the right of his head and curling it. _'Fratello is at the door.'_

Ludwig gave Feliciano's hand two taps and held it for a second before getting up and walking to the door. The Italian guessed that he was putting his shoes on. He walked after his friend and heard the door open, followed by shouted Italian.

"_Patata bastardo, che ci fai qui? Fuori da mia casa!_"

Feli could tell that this would be going downhill very fast if he didn't intervene. He quickly walked into the entry hall and almost ran to hug Lovino with a smile, "_¡__Fratello!" _ He was shoved off, but no matter. "Ludwig is deaf, you know that. He doesn't like it when you shout at him, and he was leaving anyway." Even without his sight, Feliciano could tell that Ludwig was nervous or at least a bit confused as to why and what Lovino was saying.

After being told this Lovino scowled—Feliciano could _hear_ him—and his footsteps into the kitchen, mumbling under his breath in angry Italian. _Hopefully Ludwig wasn't offended…Ve~ that's just how Lovino acts. I wonder if Ludwig could hear would he know Italian. That would be nice…I'd probably have to learn more German too…_

Feliciano jumped a little as he felt a hand in his own and was brought back to the present. Sometimes he would drift off like that and Ludwig or someone else would have to get his attention again. He squeezed his friend's hand to let the German know that he was paying attention. There was return pressure and Feli smiled at a memory. _His hand is warm, just like when we met._ This filled the spacey Italian with warm fuzzies, and he slowly—making sure he was aiming well—and gave Ludwig a light kiss on the cheek.

The other practically became a statue at the contact, causing giggles from the kisser. Feliciano tilted his head to the right and tapped his left cheek. It took a long pause, but there was a warm breath on his skin when the kiss had been returned. Feliciano smiled, and he bet that they were both blushing.

* * *

**A/N:** Another finished! I'm thinking about having Gilbert come back in the next story. Cause some trouble; possibly get our two favourite boys lost (possibly in a very large store, or other loud, new location). Haha, I'm teasing with you guys, but you're going to have to wait! Reviews much welcomed, and thank you for all of the ones that I received for the first story! They warm my heart. ^^

Sorry if the translation is off, I'm not very good at Italian, so I used the help of an online translator, and we all know how correct they are.

Translations:

Patata bastardo, che ci fai qui? Fuori da mia casa!: Potato bastard, what are you doing here? Get out of my house! (Italian)


	3. Story 3: Shouts and Whispers

**A/N: **You all can go ahead and thank How-to-Smile-101 for getting me motivated to take a break from I am HOPE and coming back to work on this long enough to get Story 3 out. Really, go give her stories some love. She deserves it.

This story's on the short side, but it was either cut it off there or wait until I could write another 3-5 pages (which wasn't/isn't going to happen any time soon). The scene that I've been working on has now become Story 4 and will happen directly after this one.

_Timing:_ Feli has known Ludwig for a while now, but they haven't been romantically involved for any length of time yet. Think shortly after Story 2, but later than the next few days.

* * *

**Story 3: Shouts and Whispers**

Feliciano fingered a box of pasta. He'd been at Ludwig and his brother's small house when Gilbert had exclaimed that they didn't have any sausage, and therefore must go to a store immediately. After a while at the store it had become evident that the three would be checking out with much more than just sausage. Feli had taken this chance to buy some more pasta. He turned toward where Gilbert had last made noise from—to the left—and asked him, "Ve~ Gilbert? What type of pasta is this box, and how much money is it?"

There was silence.

"Ve~…Gilbert?"

Someone made noise on Feliciano's right and a hand touched his shoulder. "Feli, I'm over here. It's some awesome looking spaghetti and its 8 euros."

The box of spaghetti was added to the growing mound of food items in their cart. It was Saturday, so there were a lot of people out doing their groceries and shopping. All of the noise was throwing the blind Italian off. None the less he was glad he'd gone; they'd have more pasta now, and Lovino wouldn't have to go out tomorrow to get any. Feli knew how much it annoyed his _fratello_ that he couldn't help with shopping even if that had never been actually said.

The third and quieter of their party placed a hand over Feli's, guiding his fingers until they brushed something. _A piece of paper…this feels like some dispenser thing, like what those store coupons come out of…_

"Oh!" Feliciano smiled and took on of the little coupons with his other hand, squeezing Ludwig's and giving him two taps. _'I understand now, thank you!'_

Both Feliciano and Ludwig knew that they'd much rather someone take the time to let them figure things out rather than everything be done for them. It was the little things like Ludwig guiding the Italian and showing him something instead of just fixing whatever it was for his blind friend that made these difficult "everyday" tasks a lot more bearable.

The blind man turned and handed the coupon to Gilbert—he would be paying after all—and when Ludwig started to take back his own hand, Feli squeezed it tight. _'Don't. I like holding your hand.'_ It was not hard to tell that the German was blushing a little.

As the three walked down the aisles, heading toward the cash register, someone bumped into Feliciano's shoulder and he stumbled forward. Ludwig kept him from falling; he used their connected hands to bring the Italian back on his feet. This rewarded him with a "Ve~" and a tap on his hand. _'Thanks'_.

Ludwig wouldn't have been able to hear it—most people probably wouldn't have noticed—but Feli's ears could pick out whispers of the people standing behind and to the left of them.

"Do you think…?"

"Well, their holding hands, so I'd think so."

"But the scary blonde doesn't react to any noise; he never talks. I bet he's deaf."

"Oh I know. Did you see the eyes of the shorter one?"

"No, why?"

"They're all milky and never seem to focus. No way can he see. Too bad though, he's cute, but those eyes are creepy. I bet they were really pretty before he was blind."

Feliciano stopped and even though Ludwig tried to tug him forward, he signalled to the other with a tap and careful nod in the direct that the two girls' voices floated from. He almost felt it as Ludwig looked up at them and glared. Feliciano heard responding squeals.

"Ohmygod, the deaf one is staring us down. Jay, what do we do?"

"Just keep talking to me and look like your busy or something. It's not like he can hear us."

This time Feli was the one to tug on his friend's hand. _'I'm going to go over and talk to them.'_ In the busy store, the Italian was overwhelmed by the noise, and he didn't want to run into something on their way over so he nudged Ludwig's shoe until it moved away from his foot. _'Lead me over there.'_ There was a returning two taps of confirmation.

The deaf man kept his blind friend close as they walked toward the girls. Feliciano didn't mind that he was almost like Ludwig's shadow; soon he'd get his chance to lead.

The girls said something, but Feliciano wasn't really paying attention at this point. It was only when Ludwig squeezed his hand and stopped that Feliciano used their chatter to locate the pair.

Then he spoke, and his voice was not just his, but Ludwig's too.

"_Ciao_ girls." It was times like these where he'd follow the advice that his nonno had given him when he was little and people bullied him about his sight. _Start with a casual hello…_

There was silence for a while before one of them replied, "Oh, hi. Nice day out isn't it?"

Feliciano wondered if she'd said that on purpose. He smiled kindly and nodded, "Yes it is, but a bit cloudy. I'd like it better if the sun was shining." _Strike up a conversation…_

They were quiet once more as they regrouped and there was barely a whisper of, "How did he know it's cloudy?"

"Actually, I can feel the lack of sunlight, and Ludwig told me what the weather was like." Feliciano tilted his head up to 'look' at his friend—who hadn't strayed from his side in the slightest. He turned back to the girls when one of them continued the exchange.

"Isn't he deaf? How could he 'tell' you what the weather was if he can't speak?"

"It's not that hard!" he giggled, "Just because we're missing a few things, doesn't mean we can't carry on a conversation about something as trivial as the weather." _Correct the mistake made…_

This time there wasn't even a pause this time. "Oh… that's weird."

Feliciano thought that they were being a bit rude, but he kept up his smile and happy tone when he said, "Not really. Actually, not at all." _Pretend that it doesn't bother you…_

"Hey, so why are you two always holding hands?"

"Well that's simple. Ludwig is my eyes, and I am his ears. Together we even make a complete set." Feliciano thought of something else, but he didn't know how Ludwig would react if he went through with his idea.

"Don't you think that's a bit…creepy?"

"No. Why would it be creepy? We're helping each other. It's not like we're doing anything harmful to anyone." _Make sure they know that their wrong…_

Feliciano couldn't see, but he could tell that they were exchanging a look, and that the next thing they said would hurt.

So he intervened.

Feli smiled and turned to Ludwig, who had been standing and watching the three talk. He had to stand on the tips of his toes, but Feliciano was still able to kissed Ludwig's cheek. He could tell when the quiet German started to react, but it seemed his friend realized that the Italian was trying to prove something. Instead Ludwig calmly swung their linked hands in front of them, bringing Feliciano close so that their shoulders bumped into each other.

_…And be positive to leave them speechless._

Feliciano didn't look back as he turned and started walking back to the cart; he could still hear the whispers travel down the line of shelves.

The blind man didn't like to be rude or mean to people—why be angry when you could be happy?—but sometimes he had a feeling that if he didn't say anything, no one ever would.

* * *

**A/N: **In my head canon Feliciano is generally a happy-go-lucky air-head, but when someone pokes fun at a sensitive topic he can become short-answered and a bit offensive (then add the fact that Ludwig was insulted too). I wanted to give these two the chance to show that they aren't helpless and can stand up for themselves, but it had to be someone that neither of them had met before; voilà, we get the two gossipers. No offence to anyone named Jay of course.

In case if any of you don't know what "Nonno" means, it is Italian for grandpa.


	4. Story 4: Aisles and Confusion

**A/N: **Heh…I really should be updating The Dragon's Boy right now, but in all honestly, I haven't even finished writing the chapter. I've come across a bit of a writer's block on that one. (Reviews on it might inspire me a bit more *hit hit*)

Anyway, I kind of hurried this one along because I just couldn't wait to write the next one! I've done a bit of research on it and I think it'll be a lot of fun to write! It'll probably end up being in two parts, though I'm not promising.

_Timing:_ Directly after Story 3. I mean literally seconds after the last one ended. Originally the two were one story, though I decided to split them up.

* * *

**Story 4: Aisles and Confusion**

Feliciano was two steps from the cart when he reached his hand out to grab the bar to push it away, and grasped air instead of cold metal.

He tugged Ludwig's sleeve and made a motion like he was walking the grocery cart, then shrugged. _'Where is the cart?'_

There was a pause of thought before three taps on his hand and then his arm was moved back to the position it'd been in when he'd mimicked pulling the cart. _'I don't know where the cart is. I can't see it.'_

_ Uh oh…_ Feliciano bit his lip and moved his head around, straining his ears in case if he could hear anything of Gilbert's loud voice. Nothing. Not a sound. _Big uh oh…_ _Where is Gilbert? This place is so big, there's no way we could find him! Why did he just run off like that?!_

This was bad.

This was very very _very_ bad.

Feliciano gulped and took a deep breath before giving Ludwig's hand a tap. After receiving the return tap of _'Yes, I'm watching', _the blind man reached up to point over his head and made a circular motion that he used to represent Gilbert. Then he pointed down one end of the aisle before quickly pointing the other way, and was ended in a shrug while pointing to Ludwig. _'I don't know which way Gilbert went. Do you?' _

Over time Ludwig had learned to watch every little thing; he was the sight for two people most of the time after all. In return, Feliciano made sure to take advantage of his sensitive hearing to pick up on things that the other couldn't get. In short, if something were to happen—like Ludwig's brother forgetting that he was shopping with a blind man and a deaf man—one of them would have noticed it.

There was a pause before two taps and Feli's arm was raised pointing toward the left. One hand squeezed the German's and the other pointed to both of them before the other gave four taps accompanied by a shrug. _'Should we follow him?'_

Another hiatus occurred between the question and the two taps of recognition. A hand grabbed Feliciano's and let the finger tips brush against Ludwig's chest before dropping said hand and tapping the blind man's temple twice. _'I know…'_

He had either been interrupted—Feli hadn't heard anyone walk up to them though—or he couldn't find a way to phrase the next part. The Italian knew he needed to wait until his friend did something else before reacting.

Suddenly, a finger was reaching up and traced a circle in his short hair that Lovino told him is "red-brown" . The same hand took Feliciano's arm and pointed it out down the aisle to the left. A warm palm travelled from his wrist to finger tips. _'…where Gilbert is.'_ Or _'…where Gilbert most likely is.'_ The difference wasn't much, but it would probably be a good idea for the pair to find a symbol for "most likely".

It was times like this one where Feli was in complete reliance of Ludwig. They travel down the busy walkways, one in the lead and the other following directly behind, hand in hand. He tried not loose where they were, but this was one of the first times that the blind man had been in this store—or any store—and the new layout along with all of the distractions was confusing.

Eventually, they did come to a stop. Ludwig slowed and gave Feli's hand a squeeze to signal the end of the trip. In return the Italian made their symbol for Gilbert and pointed to the ground in front of him. _'Is Gilbert here?'_

'_No'._

Feliciano tilted his head to the side, _'Why?'_

There was a pause accompanied by the rustle that meant Ludwig had moved, but still stood in the same place, probably reached into his pocket. What for would soon be revealed.

A hand holding a cell phone placed the device gently to the blind man's ear before the same hand reached up and drew a circle amongst well brushed hair. _'Call Gilbert.'_

'_Ok.'_

There was the noise of buttons being pushed before the phone was once again placed by Feliciano's ear, but this time he could hear the noise of a number being called. He took the cell phone in his free hand and switched the ear it rested against.

It was not long before Gilbert picked up the phone, "Hallo? This is Lud's number, so I'm gonna assume that you're Feli. Dude, where are you guys? The awesome me told you two that I was going to go get some awesome beer and come back, but you vanished or something."

Said Italian cleared his throat, "Ciao Gilbert. We got distracted, and I didn't hear you say you were leaving over the din of the store, so when you left we panicked—well, I panicked—and me and Luddy went looking for you, but I can't tell were anything is, so Luddy's been leading us around, and I don't know where we are, and—"

The voice on the receiving end cut in, "Feli, Feli calm down."

Feliciano felt a hand on his shoulder and a squeeze from the hand holding his. He took a few deep breaths before continuing. "Ludwig knows where in the store we are, but I'm lost."

The line stayed silent while Gilbert thought of something, "Ok. Have him tell you something about where you are. Have him hand you a can, or direct you to a sign in Braille. If anything else, ask someone to tell you."

Gilbert knew that neither Feli nor Ludwig liked asking others for help, especially strangers that they had never met before. The Italian was reminded of the two girls that they had encountered before getting lost and he didn't want to try and talk to anyone else for fear that would share the same ideas about him and his friend.

"Did you get that Feli?"

"Oh!" the blind man shook his head to clear his mind and nodded, "Sí, sí! I'll call you back when I find out."

Feliciano could tell that Gilbert was smiling even over the phone, "Alright, you do that. Stay awesome Feli!"

Then the line went dead and he tried to think of a way to communicate what he needed from Ludwig. The once again happy-bouncy man turned to his more stoic companion. How to do this?

Feli gave Ludwig's hand a tap and pointed to something on one of the shelves, tilting his head questioningly. _'What is on the shelf?'_ He then quickly added the symbol for Gilbert and tapped his temple before pointing to the shelf again. _'Gilbert wants to know what is on the shelf.'_

Hopefully his friend would figure out what he was trying to get across. It took a moment of thought before the younger Vargas brother heard rustling that signalled Ludwig's movements before a hand reached out and grabbing something from the shelf.

The item—a jar—was placed in his hand; maybe tomato sauce? No probably not. That would have been next to the pasta, but they were definitely not in the pasta aisle anymore. He flicked the jar. Solid, and now that he thought about it, that wasn't glass either. Probably plastic. What would be in a plastic jar of all things? He felt the lid, also plastic, but didn't gain any clues from that.

Despite being blind, Feliciano spent a large amount of time in the kitchen, and therefore it shouldn't be difficult to distinguish what he was holding. But this was something else entirely. He wasn't at home or Ludwig's where everything had a place and he could figure it out just by knowing where it had been put. He also didn't come across plastic jars all that often, and it was difficult to know what in the world would be in one. Feli frowned and shook his head, handing the mystery item back to his friend to place on the shelf.

The Italian made a sweeping gesture with his now free hand to the rest of the shelves. _'Try something else.'_

_ 'Ok.' _Something was purposefully brushed against his hand and stayed at his fingertips. _'Here, try this.'_

What Feli picked up this time was not a jar, but something else that had a strange shape to it. The thing had a nozzle, and on further examination was indeed a jar of some kind. The substance inside was thick like before, and the case was plastic again, but the item was most definitely a much different shape. But what could it be?

Another hand covered his—Ludwig's—and took his other hand, placing it on the outside of the bottle-like object. The German's hand applied pressure and ran Feliciano's fingers over the surface. That was odd. The texture was strange, and almost like a rough imprint of a face—

—Of course! It was a honey bottle! One of the ones with the face on the outside of the surface. After he'd almost mistaken the honey with tomato sauce once, fratello had demanded that they only buy the ones with the faces on them so that he'd never make the same error again. He'd said that the face was a….oh what was that one animal? A bear? Sí, now that he thought about it, it was most definitely a bear.

Feli smiled widely and tilted his head up at Ludwig, giving his hand a squeeze before pulling the phone out of his pocket and handing it to his companion to dial the number.

When the mobile device was handed back to him, the blind man couldn't help himself from giving a little jump of joy, "Honey! Gilbert we're in the aisle with honey jars in it! The ones with the little bear faces! Ludwig handed me a jar, and I didn't know what it was, but then he handed me another one, and I felt the little face, and it had to be honey, and come quick because I'm getting hungry, and being lost in a store is scary!"

The albino's signature laugh came through from the other end before the distinguishable voice spoke, "Alright alright, I'm coming Feli. You and Ludwig sit tight until I get there. We'll be out of here before you can say 'awesome'."

"Awesome... Gilbert, you're still not here!"

The laugh came again and Feliciano thought he could hear it not just from the speaker held to his ear, "I wasn't being literal Feli. Hold on, I can see you too. Ludwig's spotted me."

With that they both hung up and the phone was passed back to its owner while the self-proclaimed Prussian wheeled the cart toward them.

"Glad you two could figure things out. Now, let's get out of here. I'm getting hungry too, and Feli's awesome cooking sounds good right now." Said Italian could hear Gilbert's hands move as he translated what he said to his brother. The two started up a conversation and Feli took over pushing the cart so that both brothers were free to communicate.

It was indeed not long before the trio were back at the Germans' apartment and all happily pitching in to making a big dinner with the majority of the food that they'd bought.

* * *

**A/N: **Again, I'm really excited for the next story. We will be seeing more Gilbert as well as another country to be introduced. Hopefully once I finish it then I'll be able to go back and finish that chapter for The Dragon's Boy and also wrap up that other project of mine. A Project that's looking like it will turn into several different stories, and why do I always do this to myself?

Reviews are much welcomed and I make sure to reply to every one of them!


	5. Story 5: Snowflakes and Hot Chocolate

**A/N: **_I'M NOT DEAD I SWEAR!_ Simply having computer troubles that include my laptop melting, but all is well now. It has been repaired! :D

I've been celebrating by having a write-athon pretty much all night. It's getting close to midnight, but who ever said that authors have normal sleeping patterns? (And neither do most readers, so what does it matter?)

Now this has got to be the story that I did the most research for and had the most fun writing! I actually thought of this while I was up skiing over winter break, but I had to finish up Story 4 first; not to mention do a bit of research. Lucky for me, the internet was a big help (for once).

_Timing:_ I imagine that most of the previous stories occurred in summer or early autumn, but this one takes place in the winter. It happens the winter after the shopping incident most-likely.

* * *

**Story 5: Snowflakes and Hot Chocolate**

The second winter after knowing the Beilschmidt brothers, Feliciano had been coaxed into riding up with them to the local ski resort—a good two hour drive from the city—and attending his very first ski lesson.

Ludwig and Gilbert had insisted that he at least try skiing. They had gone through the trouble of finding a guide for their blind friend. The two had taken the time to look over and meet five different ski instructors that taught the blind and had narrowed it down to one person.

Feliciano had been told his name several times, but all he could remember was that it started with an 'R' and the nickname that Gilbert kept called him by, 'Prinzessin'. Apparently the two had known each other for a while and this 'Prinzessin' was 'not a half bad skier when he doesn't have a stick up his ass' as put by the albino during the long journey to the ski hill.

When they were _finally_ at the lodge, Feli couldn't help but immediately jump out of the car and run around in the snow to release all of the pent up energy from a long car ride with only Ludwig and his brother for company.

It wasn't long before the three were sitting at a table covered with snow gear and hot chocolates all around. Ludwig was trying to show the bouncy Italian how to put on his ski boots when Feliciano heard someone approach and lifted his head, "Ciao?"

"Ah, you must Mr Vargas," a voice that he could only describe the voice as aristocratic. The person wasn't very tall, or at least, didn't seem to be. He had an Austrian accent as well.

"Specs! There you are! I thought you'd gotten lost again or somethin'!"

Feliciano could hear a sniff and guessed that his new guide had tilted his head up, "Even I can find my way around a simply ski lodge, Gilbert."

The conversation was cut short by Ludwig. He signed something to his brother who signed back with a muttered complaint. Shortly after the silence, the new voice spoke again.

"Well, shall we start lessons Mr Vargas?"

The blind man couldn't help but giggle a little at the title, "That makes me sound like an old man! Call me Feli, _per favour_." _He sounds so formal. I hope that he'll be really nice and friendly._

"Ok, Feli. You may call me Roderich and I'll be your ski guide. Now," there was the noise of Roderich kneeling before his new student, "do you know how to put your boots on?"

"Sí! Ludwig showed me all of the buckles and how to clip them on. He let me hold them on the drive here so that I could get used to them."

"Then let's get them buckled on your feet and we'll head out. The first thing that we will do is let you feel the skis and practice putting weight on them. After that you can go out and start practicing turns."

The eager learner nodded and reached down to try and secure his boots.

"Now, do you know the turn signals for skiing?" Roderich asked.

After receiving a head tilt and puzzled look, the Austrian started to explain the different signals and what they represented.

"Every turn in skiing can be divided into three parts. First, you have to initiate the turn; know it is coming, slow down, and prepare to turn. Then there is the actual turn, where you face downhill for a moment. The last step is finishing off your turn and getting your skis parallel to the hill again."

"Ok…" Feliciano said hesitantly.

Before Roderich could comfort his student, a larger hand enveloped Feli's and gave a comforting squeeze. His returned grin grew into a wide smile when the flutter of lips against his cheek came before the hand slid away to work on something else. _Yay! Luddy kissed my cheek!_

After some work, Roderich—along with "help" from Gilbert and a bit of encouragement from Ludwig—was able to get Feliciano out and on his skis. The blind man busied himself running his hands up and down the skis several times. Though Gilbert had long ago gone off in search of some good powder and the jump park, Ludwig stayed with his friend and the guide. They all had agreed to meet back inside for lunch later in the day, but for now they stood at the base of the bunny hill while Feli was instructed on the basics of a turn.

"Now, turning is quite simple, though it will take a while to completely master," Roderich informed, "We already talked about downhill and uphill, but it's a bit difficult to tell right now. The slope is relatively flat right here—"

Feliciano interrupted, "Luddy says that way," he pointed in the general direction of the top of the small beginners' hill known as the bunny hill, "is uphill and that way," he pointed toward where the lodge was, "is downhill."

Roderich was quiet. He probably hadn't noticed, but Ludwig had run Feli's hand along the ground when they'd been working with his skis and then pointed out which ways were uphill and which sloped downward from where they'd been sitting. The blind man had kept track of which way everything was where that stayed like a map in his head; one that he had just referenced to now. It was the same method that the Italian used to walk around a restaurant or the park down the street.

"That's exactly right Feliciano, though the hill isn't that high up," Roderich moved over and gently brought his student's arm down so that it pointed directly at the crest of the nearby hill, "There you go."

The blind man's new instructor continued to go over different points of skiing—basic turning, the commands that they would be using and why, plus how to get on the lift. Feli wore a bright jersey that read "blind" so that other people would know that he couldn't see while Roderich wore an identical one with "guide" written on it instead.

Ludwig had dedicated himself to the position as Roderich's assistant and moral support for his friend. The German would occasionally place a comforting glove on Feli's shoulder or guide his hand in the right direction when the poles were given to him. Soon, the two teachers decided that their student was ready to try the slopes.

They would start on the bunny hill, but first there was the short lift ride. Feliciano happily chattered to Roderich while they waited in the short line and quietly talked to Ludwig as well. It was more difficult with gloves on, but the two found out that their poles worked the same way that a finger might. It didn't take them long to start using the pointed tips of their ski poles to tap against each other's legs or to point at something—carefully though, Feli accidently hit the person in front of them a couple times.

"Feliciano, two lines up is the lift, so the next time we move you have to stop when I put my pole in front of you."

The happy Italian was about to reply, but an arm reached across his shoulders so that the pole tapped Roderich, who turned to face Ludwig.

"Ja, Ludwig?"

The arm dropped and the shuffle of someone communicating in sign language came from Feli's left, where the German stood. Roderich had known the Beilschmidt brothers for a while, and had picked up several useful signs. They often would ski with each other as well, which meant that the two Europeans were used to needing to communicate on the slopes.

"Ludwig says that he will be in charge of getting you on the lift. He says... ah, he would like to practice skiing with you so that you two can come up more often." The Austrian translated.

Feliciano smiled and nodded. When it was their turn to get on the chair-lift, the process went rather smooth and with only one error. The people coming up behind them would bring up Feli's poles, which he had dropped.

It wasn't long before Roderich commented sternly, "Feliciano stop swinging your legs, you're making the chair rock."

"But I'm bored!" the offender protested.

Ludwig intervened this time. A gloved hand rested on Feli's knee and stilled his swaying legs. When the warmth of his friend's hand disappeared, the blind man started swinging his legs again with a giggle. The result being that Ludwig's hand rested on his knee the remainder of the trip.

At the top there was the chaotic shuffle of things being prepared and the chair-bar being raised that signalled the end of the lift ride. The hand on his knee moved to Feliciano's back and slid him forward ever so slightly so that it would be easier to get off the lift. It stayed there though, and the newbie quickly found out why.

It was almost impossible to tell when they had to stand up and slide forward, the hand pushed when they had to get off, and guided the unsteady blind man.

"Remember, snowplough Feli. Make a point with the tip of your skis. That's it," a guiding voice instructed from his right. There was the clicking noise of metal hitting while the other two put the straps on their poles. The people behind them had already given the blind man's poles to Roderich—they weren't needed yet. This gave Feliciano time to take in all of the new sounds.

There wasn't any wind at the bottom of the slope, but a breeze blew past from here. It felt open, like one step too far and they'd tumble off into oblivion. The noise of pine trees' needles rustling in the whisper of a wind mixed with the sounds of the lift moving and people getting off to prepare to take to the slopes. Someone with a different noise—must be a snowboarder—passed by his left and the cold air brought him snippets of conversations.

The encouragement of a father brushed past his ears, "Now you'll do just fine. See him? Even a blind man can do it, Katty. You just have to be confident."

The flutter of whispered words tickled at the edge of his hearing, "Did you know blind people can ski? Oh hey, look at the blonde next to him. Yea, the jersey says 'Deaf'. It's cool that they can come out here too. Ya know, enjoy the snow."

A shout from one friend to another rang in the chill, "Hey! Dude! Where have you been? I've been sitting on my butt waiting for you to get up on the lift for like, twenty minutes!"

"Alright Feli, are you ready?" Roderich brought Feliciano back to himself.

He nodded vigorously, "Sí! I am!"

There was a squeeze on his wrist from Ludwig. _'Ready when you are.'_

_Just…be confident._

The Italian slowly let his body be pushed forward by gravity with Roderich's voice ahead of him and the solid reassurance of Ludwig standing behind him. His eyebrows creased in concentration as the skis picked up speed.

"Turnnnnn a lefffft," Roderich's voice called out. The syllables were drawn out and slow; indicating that his turn should be wide and sweeping. "Remember to make the snowplough, Feli."

Feliciano felt the breeze pick up behind him, nudging his snow-gear covered form forward, giving him more speed then he knew what to do with. Suddenly, when he'd known where things were before; the blind skier was disoriented and confused. Snow was in his face and he could feel the ground in front of him. How had it gotten there?

There was a hand on his shoulder, and another grabbed his gloved hand. It fumbled with the fingers before taking off the warm shell to direct Feli's cold fingers with an equally chilled, but steady hand. _That must be Ludwig._ The Italian made a thumbs-up, and the glove was put back over his cold fingers.

"You were doing fine, Feli," a voice reassured him, and it was a moment before he remembered that was Roderich, "The wind simply gave you too much of a push and your ski caught an edge. The only thing to do is get up and try again. Do you remember how I showed you how to get up? Here…" From there the two worked together, and eventually everyone was right-side-up with all of their gear back in the right place.

The next try at turning was easier, though Feliciano fell once again before making a third attempt. There were claps all around for the job well done on the first, however—and a shy hug, clumsy from Ludwig. After that they continued to work on making simple turns, while at the same time the three worked on doing things together without anything becoming too complicated. There was soon a rhythm to everything.

Roderich would ski just ahead of Feliciano, and they would continue until the latter fell or the end of the slope came. Usually, Feli falling was the cause for stopping, and this would result in his German friend skiing down to them to make sure that the bubbly Italian was in one piece. Ludwig and Roderich took turns helping up their fallen friend with equal skill.

It didn't take long before the trio was worn out, and lunch was more than fast approaching. Feliciano had started to complain about his tummy being empty, and everyone was in need of a bit of a break.

When they reached the lodge and started taking off their skis and putting them on the rack, Gilbert made himself noticed with his usual noisy speech.

"Lud, Prinzessin, Feli! You guys took your time getting here! I've been unawesomely waiting for ya," the loud-mouthed albino chattered on—mostly aimed at Roderich—while Ludwig fell in step with Feli behind the other two.

When they came to the inevitable stairs, Ludwig held out a hand in front of his bubbly but tired friend. However, the blind man could already hear the _clack clack_ of people walking up and down the metal steps with boots on. The Italian lifted a heavy foot to rest on the first step and heaved himself forward—

—only to almost fall on his face when the cumbersome ski boots added an extra weight that Feliciano hadn't been expecting. Luckily, two strong arms kept him upright. Ludwig brought a gloved hand to grip his arm and help him ascend the flight of stairs that even someone with their sight would probably have trouble getting up. Each step was a bit slick, steep, and the boots were like bricks holding down Feli's feet. When they reached the top he considered simply collapsing there and having someone else bring his food out here.

Then a fellow skier opened the swinging doors to the cafeteria and the lovely scent of hot cocoa and heated food spilled out on a warm breeze and the skier newbie had renewed strength—if only to get food quicker.

Not long after that, the Europeans met up with the rest of their company, who were in a furious argument about something to do with beer and a piano. Eventually, Feliciano was able to cut in and ask about the possibility of a meal. The German brothers and their Italian friend were sent off to the cafeteria line while Roderich kept claim of their seats.

The room was hot and noisy, though everyone had shed a couple of layers when they'd first come in. The wait in line and ordering of food all seemed like a blur until everyone was once again seated; this time with much needed food and drink.

"So," Gilbert's voice came, followed by the slurp of his soft drink, "How was skiing Feli?"

Feliciano perked up and smiled, nodding his head enthusiastically. "Sí, sí! It was so much fun! Though, I did fall down a lot, but that can't be helped when learning something new, I guess. Roderich and Ludwig helped me get back up again, and I think I've got turning down! It's still a bit hard to slow down, but I'm working on that. Everything is so new! The sounds, the smells, all of the cold—burr. There is a lot to get used to. Especially the stairs," at this the energetic Italian pouted a bit, "I don't think I like the stairs."

They all continued to chat as the food on everyone's tray disappeared. Ludwig even joined in at one point to talk with Gilbert through sign language while Roderich went over a few pointers with his student. Lunch ended on a positive note and everyone decided on two more hours of skiing before they would pack up and head home.

* * *

Feliciano only lasted an hour and a half before he had reached his limit. Skiing was a lot more tiresome than it first seemed like, and he wasn't a particularly fit person. Gilbert went in with a very sleepy Feli while the albino's brother and the Austrian took an opportunity to tackle some of the more challenging slopes on the mountain. By the time that the duo came stomping into the lodge, their Italian friend was well on his way to a long, well-earned nap.

A chilled hand brushed along his shoulders, and the blind man shifted until he was leaning up against a very solid, but warm and comfy chest. Ludwig rubbed little circle patterns into his back before talking off his winter gear to be packed into the duffle bags, all while balancing a sleepy Feliciano who was using him as a pillow.

There were background noises all around them. Loud and distracting ones, but he blocked them out. Only the shuffling of his friend packing their belongings ever reached his ears. It all seemed too short before those comforting arms were trying to get him to stand. Feli wouldn't have that though. His body was tired, and felt rather like a rag doll; too bothered to be useful any time in the near or possibly far future.

Tired. Go away.

Ludwig was persistent, wasn't he? When that hadn't worked, he'd moved onto another plan of action; carrying the almost-but-not-quite sleeping Italian to their car.

With a kind, reassuring body for his headrest, Feliciano was out like a light before they even got out of the snowy parking lot.

* * *

**A/N: **I seem to like ending with Feli falling asleep, don't I? Ah, well _no mas._ It can't be helped when he is so adorable asleep. I hope I didn't make any major errors, though I'm sure I didn't get the process down all that correctly. It's been a long time since I learned how to ski, and so I had to use a bit of an imagination for that part.

…Which brings me to the topic: why Gilbert wasn't snowboarding like I had originally intended. I have never, ever been on a snowboard, and probably never will be. Nor do I know of anyone who does and is willing to undergo strange and random questioning. Thus, Gilbert skis. Problem solved.

Please review! They keep me going and make me write a lot faster, so in the end, it helps you all out as well as me! Danke, and see you all again next update!


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